The wind rustles golden grain, swaying so it sounds like tinkling bells. Tiny cymbals. I roll down the window as I drive up the lane just to stop for a spell and listen in on nature’s symphony. The air laden with the smell of dust and a dry grassy scent. The clouds are piled high and fluffy. Beauty surrounds every angle from which I gaze.

My heart is part wonder, part sorrow. There is always beauty in sorrow. And it takes every effort to tune into the grace we have been afforded when our minds so easily slip, so quickly bend toward the stress. Our hearts must be trained to see more than meets the eye. We must look with discernment for what lies beyond. What we see is not all there truly is.

There is so very much more.

I walk into the barn and take in the musty smell of manure and hay and dust and years worth of sweat and hard labour. I follow him as he paces the length of the barn and back again. We lean into one another. I wrap my arms around his chest and feel his beating heart. What is our life work worth at the end of the day? What legacy do we leave to those following in our footsteps?

How will we be remembered?

I step back, standing just upon the threshold of this doorway leading to another life and take in one last view before I turn away toward the sunlight and warmth of the day.

How is it that we are able to tune our hearts to sing grace even when the cords of those same hearts wring with pain? Daily, we must train our minds to think on these eternal graces: love, joy peace.

This was so lovely. Oh, dear, somedays have back to back joys and sorrows. Your heart is jumping from emotion to emotion. This has been that kind of week for me, too. Thank you for this little walk through your day. Love, Mom